


Rules of Arrangement

by fictionfinding



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Asshole Fiancé, Duelling, Kink Meme, M/M, Misrepresentation of Roman Marriage Practices, Pining, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13837341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionfinding/pseuds/fictionfinding
Summary: It turns out Ignis was unwillingly betrothed to a foreign noble (who is, by the way, a complete and total asshole) when he was young, and now he's come to collect. What's a Gladio to do?





	Rules of Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> With my apologies to Latinists and legal experts, I hope you enjoy this story of no factual reality whatsoever.

Gladio had been watching Ignis for a while. Well, that was nothing new. With his confident command of himself, his unyielding intellect, his muted affection revealed only to his inner circle, and, hey, his frankly god-tier skills in the kitchen, he was a hard man to keep admiring eyes off of, even if Gladio hadn’t already taken the tumble down the unforgiving cliff of what it was to have feelings for Ignis Scientia. But the thing was, you watched a guy enough, you could tell when something was off, and Gladio had been watching Ignis for a while, so he knew something major was up.

Less easy was approaching him about it. Gladio prided himself (and in his low moments, consoled himself) on being one of the few people Ignis would open up to, but Ignis was almost always the one who set the terms for it. He kept things close until an unanticipated moment where he’d share a candid confession or complaint. That was how things usually worked, but whatever this thing was, it had been going on long enough Gladio knew he was gonna have to pry, and that always risked it blowing up in his face.

Ah, well. Gladio figured he at least oughta try. It took time to find the right opening—as much as he’d love to take him out for a drink, that environment was the opposite of the kind Ignis would open up in—but he seized his chance after one of their sparring sessions in which Ignis seemed even more tense and frustrated than before. Ignis was sitting down on a bench for the moment, wiping the sweat off his brow with his towel, and instead of nonchalantly trying to impress him with his cool-down stretches like usual, Gladio walked over and sat next to him.

Ignis looked over at him, barely moving but for the slight tilt of his chin.

Gladio indulged in the allure held in this rumpled, slightly-flushed-and-glistening-with-sweat side of the man for a moment, before looking up at nothing, hand moving to brush through his messy hair, trying to play it casual as he said, “Look, I’m not tryna get up in your business or anything, so you don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna, but…”

“But?” Ignis said after a moment. 

Gladio’s hand fell back down, and he glanced over at him. “Something’s up. That kind of show,” he said, gesturing to the empty space they had been sparring in, “S’not like you. What’s going on?” From Ignis’ reaction, Gladio could tell this was just making things worse. Crap. “Y’know whatever it is,” Gladio trailed off, uncertain where he was even going with this, “…well, I’ll listen.”

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis said, “but it’s not something you need concern yourself wi—”

“’M’already concerned,” Gladio cut him off. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna sit here and take bullshit for an answer. “It won’t kill you to take someone’s help.”

“You can’t help with this,” Ignis replied and, man, that tone was bitter and annoyed. 

He’d walked right into it. This was what Gladio had wanted to avoid, and it took him all of a minute to get there. For all his easy skill in talking to people, Gladio’s impatience never did help him out when getting onto thornier issues and Ignis, when he wanted to be, could be pricklier than a cactuar. Gladio resigned himself to the fact he wasn’t gonna get anywhere today. 

Instead of stewing on it, he simply sighed and reaffirmed his earlier words, “But I can listen.” As long as Ignis knew that, he’d have to take it.

To Gladio’s surprise however, Ignis’ resistance went out like a light. Gladio could see the defeat settle in on his shoulders. It made him feel kind of shitty—seeing Ignis with that expression was uncommon, and unpleasant. 

“Well, I suppose you’d hear about it soon enough,” Ignis said, looking off to the side.

“Then?” Gladio said, leading him along. Honestly, not to criticize (or maybe a little to criticize, but that _was_ inviting a fight) but with Ignis’ life so bound up in their mutual charge’s, Gladio was surprised there’d be anything the matter of public report he didn’t know already.

“A family matter,” said Ignis, at last, looking up at him briefly. “One that’s rested a long time since its inception, but is soon to be unavoidable.” 

“I’m no good with vague shit. What’s the problem?” Gladio said. He could see Ignis’ expression twitch as he looked him in the eye and answered unequivocally.

“An arranged marriage.”

“What.” Gladio felt oddly like the air had been punched out of his lungs with those three words.

“An old agreement between my family and one of Arcus,” Ignis explained. “An unpleasant business, really, that’s reared its head at last.” Gladio could see Ignis trying to keep neutral, though his distaste was written all over his face, nevermind his actions for the past month. 

“Wait, you,” Gladio said and then stopped himself, rubbing his hands over his face in an attempt to clear his head and process this. Whatever he expected, it couldn’t have floored him more, but he knew he needed to wrench his thoughts away from the inherent panic the knowledge had drummed up and try to say something actually helpful here. At last he spoke, “But if you hate it that much, you of all people could easily get out of it. Right? Manoeuvring people into a situation’s what you’re good at.”

“Your confidence is appreciated,” Ignis said, his lips lifting upward at the corner into not quite a smile, “but unwarranted. I don’t imagine you’re familiar with the shadier dealings of my family.” 

“What?” Gladio said. “Your uncle’s…and you—shady?” The hell?

“No, no, I’m referring to my parents, whom you may never have met,” Ignis said. Gladio racked his brain, unsure. The nobility of Crown City weren’t a terribly wide circle but Gladio spared more attention for the ones he interacted with directly around the Citadel rather than the garden party circuit. 

“And yes, shady, perhaps even sordid, is the word for these kinds of things,” Ignis continued. “You know, despite my uncle’s service to the Crown, my immediate family was once rather low in the scheme of the old Insomnia houses and there was a time when I was young, before I was brought into the royal service, where following several risky ventures, my parents were in want of, well, money and property, and the usual things that come with status.”

“Had no idea,” Gladio said, watching Ignis as he spoke. The discomfort on his face was obvious.

“Yes, well, desperate times called for desperate measures, as far as they were concerned, and an elite family of Arcus provided an opportunity. You might guess neither party had the cleanest of hands when it came to matters of, well, ethics and law, of which I’ll say no more,” Ignis said, waving his hand to dismiss further questioning of it, “which was how they came to be involved. But to the point, there came a time my family was in need and quite willing to make concessions, and the other family wished to see stronger ties in Insomnia. Essentially, to recover prestige my family borrowed both wealth and reputation from House Pariser.”

Gladio nodded at him, encouraging him to go on. 

“As the case with any creditor, the terms were stacked in the Parisers’ favour. One of the terms of their backing was a marriage of the two families between their offspring. It was non-specific for both parties, but as my parents failed to have any further children, I am the only candidate,” Ignis said, folding his fingers together on his lap.

Gladio shook his head. “I don’t get it. It shouldn’t stop you from breaking it off if you can’t stomach it. You can—”

“Marriage _cum manu_ ,” said Ignis, with finality. “Anything I’ve to say on the matter is legally irrelevant, and is to be for the rest of my so-called ‘married life.’”

“That’s,” Gladio said, struck by the words as it all clicked into place—the one form of marriage in Lucis where legal control of the betrothed was given over to their partner. “That’s, who even does that, these days? It’s practically obsolete.”

“ _De facto_ is not _de iure_ , Gladio,” said Ignis, “I assure you the practice is very much still legitimate. Unless I dare to disgrace and likely ruin my family, I’ll be married without say whether I like it or not. My choice in this has never been within my control. I’ve known that since before I understood it, probably.”

Fuck. “Then the reason you’ve been worried lately is…”

“Sabinus Flos Pariser,” Ignis said, the words sounding bitter on his tongue, “the youngest son of House Pariser and my fiancé, so to speak, will be coming to Insomnia soon—joining a diplomatic visit that should also be understood in terms of moving forward on the arrangement, now that we’re both of an age.” 

“Shit.” Gladio felt the words tumble out, without control. “Iggy, that’s…”

“So you see, there’s nothing to do but wait. You certainly cannot ‘help’ with this.”

“Like hell I’m gonna just sit here and let you deal with this on your own.”

Ignis raised his hand to massage his brow. “Very noble of you. But, I think, pointless.” Ignis shook his head as though to clear it and stood up. “At any rate, I’ve to check in on Noct shortly. I should get to the showers first.”

“Don’t want company?” Gladio asked, “‘Cause we could keep—nevermind,” he finished as Ignis gave him a particularly hard glare before walking away.

The problem with being a shameless flirt was that Gladio could never tell whether Ignis never bought into it because he wasn’t interested, because he didn’t take it seriously, or because it was really not the appropriate time, place or occasion. The last very definitely applied in this case. For fuck’s sake, Gladio thought, he just told you he basically got sold to foreign nobility as a child and that’s your response? Grow up.

It was just the kind of story Gladio’d read in a million period romances owing to early Lucian marriage laws giving legal power over a spouse, _potestas_ , from the parents to the spouse whose household they’d be entering. It made sense for its time, but it came with some nasty drawbacks that made it a fading practice even in the days of his grandparents. In the last century, marriage _cum manu_ had ceded almost entirely to the _sine manu_ arrangement where both parties remained under parental _potestas_ until their parents’ death, and only the children of a union became part of either family. But apparently there were still dinosaurs out there clinging to the old ways in both countries.

Seriously though, this was shit. This was all shit. He’d only been trying to win over the guy forever and fucking it up and now he was getting married and was miserable about it and telling Gladio to stay out of it? Gladio was definitely going out drinking tonight because everything about this fucking sucked.

 

The week passed but Gladio hadn’t had any further chances to talk to Ignis, although what he saw of him in passing proved his mood was no less sour, even if you had to really know the guy to see it. Gladio found himself more on edge too although nothing in his day-to-day life was much different. Training and his Crownsguard duties were straightforward, but once he retired to his apartment or his bedroom back home he’d eventually wander back to the matter of the engagement. He couldn’t even get any peace in the goddamn shower—now being the perfect example of that. Random thoughts about why King’s Knight was called that when it centered around assorted mercenaries working against an evil king, and whether you or not could chariot race with chocobos, and how awesome it’d be if you gave them bird armour, were driven out by worries about the upcoming visit Ignis had mentioned. Gladio was also hella sexually frustrated ‘cause it was hard to jerk it to fantasies about the guy you liked when depressing real life shit kept interrupting your sacrosanct shower time.

He gave up any hope of actually enjoying himself that night and turned the water off. When he finally stepped into the living area, he could see his phone glowing with a notification. He unlocked it and was greeted with the map screen he had left open. Arcus was one of a handful of independent city-states to the east of Lucis with ties and reciprocal agreements going back hundreds and hundreds of years, a loose alliance of shared interests almost as old of that of Tenebrae or Accordo before Niflheim moved in. Gladio had never been, but every once in a while visiting courtiers or diplomats from those parts would come to Crown City. He was never much involved with that set. Looking at a map hadn’t really helped anything either. Actually, it was pretty depressing, all things considered. He closed the app and opened the texts that his phone had been notifying him of. Both were from Noctis. The earliest one read:

_8 pm._

The one on top time-stamped a few minutes later wasn’t necessary, but did more for Gladio’s sanity:

_Hey, Gladio, this is Prompto! ヾ(≧∇≦)ゝNoct is being terrible. We’re thinking junk food and King’s Knight? 8 at Noct’s. May the best man win._ __  
(≧ヮ≦)つ¤=[]———  


Gladio texted back a quick:

_k, imma b the winner 2nite_

That done, he set about getting changed and styling his hair back. Noctis’ apartment wasn’t a great distance away, but it was already about that time so Gladio said to hell with it and called a cab.

When he arrived, he was greeted by Prompto in the doorway. Noctis never answered his own door if he could help it, the lazy ass. Gladio spotted the pair of studded square-toed dress shoes sitting on the shoe rack next to some sneakers, as he’d more or less expected. Prompto had already moved back to the couch across from Noctis, and sure enough Ignis was working away in the kitchen.

“‘Sup,” Noctis said, scrolling through his phone without looking up.

Gladio crossed his arms. “You’d think a guy who spends so much time on his phone’d have time to write an actual text.”

“Like you can talk,” Noctis grumbled, putting it down.

“I use words,” Gladio said.

“Hardly,” Noctis said.

“Pot meet kettle,” Ignis said, his voice low but meant to be heard. In response Noctis rolled his eyes but did little more than rearrange himself on the couch and pick up his phone again.

Now, giving Noctis a hard time for his own amusement was one of Gladio’s favourite pastimes, but he wasn’t about to ignore an attractive guy in an apron, surrounded by food, for that. “Hey,” Gladio said, moving over to see what Ignis was prepping. Homemade pizza, it looked like. “Shoulda known this was the brat’s idea of ‘junk food.’” 

“Oh, they’ve plenty of that,” Ignis said, nodding at the coffee table Prompto and Noctis were seated around, covered in snacks.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Gladio said with a grin.

“Fair enough,” said Ignis.

“It’s good t’see you’re not working into all hours tonight,” Gladio said, hands coming to rest on his hips as he hovered around the kitchen.

“Am I not?” Ignis said, putting the knife down as he caught his eye. Gladio laughed quietly. Catering to Noctis’ whims was more of a full-time job than the politics and paperwork, probably.

“You coulda ordered in,” Gladio said, making to grab a bit of the cheese that was sitting out. He got a quick smack to the hand before he could manage it unfortunately.

“Have it your way,” Gladio said, his grin a touch wider as he leaned back against the counter, coming nearer to Ignis, “I’ll wait.”

“Alternatively, you might simply ask,” said Ignis, “and I might actually put some on a plate for you all to share.” Sarcastic, yeah, but he was wearing that teasing smile that undid Gladio in so many ways. He felt like he needed a moment which he did not have.

“Sounds good, but it ain’t nearly as fun,” Gladio replied, eyes darting away from his lips as he tried to play it off. 

“Oh, the appeal of things that are denied to us,” Ignis said as he began chopping up shallots. Gladio barely even caught the words because, fuck, there was so much control in how those hands worked with the knife.

“Big guy, come check this out,” Prompto called over. “I just put up that shot from when you were training with Noct the other day and it’s already got a ton of likes.”

Gladio nodded and moved over to the couches, leaving Ignis to do his thing. The picture was pretty great, he had to say, although as usual with Prompto, it led into flipping through a whole slew of photos, about half of which were Noctis in soft lighting not looking at the camera. Gladio kinda wondered sometimes but knew better than to ask. Ignis joined them soon enough and they broke out some of the snacks while waiting for the pizza to cook. The way the evening passed with the four of them—it felt normal. It felt okay, which he didn’t expect. He was glad of it, to just have that, but somehow Gladio couldn’t entirely let go.

He took his chance after getting crushed by Prompto in their final round of King’s Knight. He offered to help Ignis out with the dishes while Prompto and Noctis lay on the couch with their hands on their stomachs sighing melodramatically, and quietly brought up the subject that had been plaguing him all week.

“So this visit,” he said, in his best attempt at being casual. “You said it’s coming up soon?”

Ignis, of course, required no time to grasp where the thread of conversation had moved.

“Mr. Pariser arrives Wednesday,” Ignis said, drying off the cutting board. “My understanding is he and most of the others in the set will be accommodated in the Caelum Via on Invidia Street, although I’ve no doubt my family will be hosting him on any number of occasions. I’ll be less free in my time, I suspect.” 

Like Ignis didn’t overwork enough as it was. Gladio felt angry but tried not to show it too plainly as he asked, “Do you know the guy at all?”

“No, although we’ve had correspondence as of late. But this connection mostly has been the affair of my parents. I’ve been too wrapped up in…” Ignis trailed off, glancing over to the dozing figure on the couch.

“Yeah,” Gladio said.

“…to visit my parents’ much over the years. Well,” Ignis admitted, “I looked for excuses not to, I’m sure. It’s hardly a distance.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I did meet the current head of House Pariser during a visit a few years ago.”

“Right,” Gladio said, frowning as he put the newly rinsed pizza slicer in the drying rack with a slight clatter. “Your future ‘in-law,’ then?”

“Whoa, wait a sec!” came a loud voice from behind the couch. Prompto popped over the back of it, arms resting along the top cushion. “What kinda conversation are you guys having back there? ‘Cause I swear I heard ‘in-law’ and nobody invited me to any wedding.”

“Ehh,” a groggy sound came from Noctis as he rejoined the world of the living.

Gladio looked apologetically to Ignis. This hadn’t been the most private place to chat.

“I suppose you’d have found out soon enough,” Ignis said, loud enough to be heard by the useless lumps on the couches. He hung up the towel he’d been using to dry. 

“Specs?” Noctis said, as Ignis walked over to stand in front of them.

Gladio kept his back turned to the scene, putting away the last few dishes. He didn’t need to do this part again. He gave the counters a scrub, while he was at it.

“By all means, stay sitting,” Ignis told them as one—Noctis, if Gladio had to guess—moved to stand. “As it happens, I am engaged to be married.”

“What!?” Prompto squawked, “Since when?”

“Since childhood,” Ignis replied.

“Some kind of arrangement, then?” Noctis asked, his voice flat in comparison to Prompto’s lively reaction.

“Whoa-ho! An arranged marriage?” Prompto said. “Man, just as soon I get comfortable, you guys always manage to remind me what a completely different world you live in.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you might be thankful for that,” Ignis said.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—” Prompto said, clearly realizing he’d struck a nerve. The kid was always so eager to please. “Uh, so, you’re not into it, then?”

“Would you be?” Noctis asked dubiously. Gladio wasn’t surprised he was taking this relatively in stride. He was the one person in the room who was absolutely expected to marry for diplomacy, even if the idea was hardly foreign to any of noble birth. For most, the Amicitias and Scientias included, it was merely a possibility in this day and age, but a love match would always be out of the question where the head of state was concerned.

“I mean, no,” Prompto said, sounding embarrassed. “But, uh, hey, is the person you’re marrying nice? Or good-looking, at least?” 

Gladio was annoyed enough at that he turned and flung the wet dish rag in his hand at Prompto’s head. The yelp he got was totally worth it. 

“Gross,” Prompto said, rubbing one hand at the back of his neck while the other threw the rag back at Gladio. Prompto might have made a bigger thing of it normally, but he was evidently feeling a bit chastised and instead looked back to Ignis, who had turned to stare out the window. Gladio easily caught the rag and put it down on the counter, moving over to rest his arms on the back of the couch. Hiding in the kitchen wasn’t making much difference to his mood at this point.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ignis said, pretending not to have noticed the altercation. Noctis’ expression was hard to read but Prompto looked like someone kicked his puppy on hearing that. Kid had a bleeding heart, that was for sure.

“Some guy from Arcus,” Gladio added. He could see it click in their heads. High school ought to have taught them at least that much, and all those documents Ignis prepared for Noctis should have taught him more.

“‘S far out,” said Noctis. He paused before asking, “Does my dad know?”

Ignis nodded slowly as he turned back to face Noctis, although it seemed uncertain, “He was likely made aware when I was chosen to enter service, should it impact the decision, but that was a very long time ago. I haven’t exerted myself to spread news of it lately, but…with my intended arriving this week, whether I exert myself or not, it’s to be common knowledge shortly. I apologize for not telling you sooner.”

“It’s not gonna stop you from being here, is it?” Noctis asked quietly.

“I will do everything in my power to guarantee that it doesn’t,” Ignis said. His face held that one doting expression that made Gladio want to roll his eyes while sulking enviously because it was warm and peaceful and Ignis tended to reserve it for his charge alone. Not that Gladio was looking to be minded by Ignis, but hey, it’d be nice to get a smile of his own (in addition to a couple other things).

“Is there some way you could, I don’t know…” Prompto mumbled still looking miserable about the news.

“Unfortunately, the control of the marriage was given over to the other family,” Ignis said. He was mincing, Gladio thought. It wasn’t control of the marriage that was given over, it was _potestas_ over Ignis himself that had been given from his parents to the Parisers, while he would have been too young to emancipate himself from their power. Although Lucian parents generally held _potestas_ over their children until their passing, precedent existed for adult children coming into an independent legal state while their parents were still living. Gladio had been doing more than a little research in that direction since their conversation. It did little good because said precedent mainly revolved around parents who tried to exert their legal control in breaking up a _sine manu_ marriage. If the marriage had otherwise proved fruitful and the spouses were unwilling to separate, the court might rule in favour of the litigant’s spouse coming into their own legal right, _sui iuris_. There was absolutely fucking nothing for Ignis’ situation that he’d found, however.

The conversation was pretty much dead in the water at that point, and it wasn’t long after that the four of them ended up calling it a night and heading home. 

“Would you like me to drop you off en route?” Ignis asked Gladio as he picked up the shoehorn to slide on his shoes.

Gladio paused for a moment. Ignis often made the offer and Gladio had to say he liked their quiet moments in the car as the night lights of Insomnia passed them by, but he had this feeling of itchy restlessness, and he also knew the more time Ignis took detouring to drop him off meant the less time Ignis would have to himself, and he had little enough of that to begin with.

He smiled but declined quickly. “Thanks, but I feel like a night run, honestly,” Gladio said. He reached out to clap Ignis on the arm, “Get home and get some sleep.”

 

He took it at a jog along the brightly lit blocks of city that never slept, and the night air did feel good although he didn’t feel much better for it. A good half hour or so later as he was walking up to his apartment, Gladio was surprised to get a text from Noctis that actually contained words. Now that’s a shocking turn of events, he thought. He flicked the screen-lock open.

_You knew and you didn’t tell me._

Gladio quickly punched in a response.

_nope_

A minute passed but all he got back was:

_…_

Well, if the prince wanted to pout that was his business. As he was neither being forced to be married, nor was the guy he was maybe kinda in love with being forced to be married, Gladio had no sympathy to spare tonight.

 

Wednesday came and went, and Thursday the same. Gladio had texted Ignis a few times to check in, but Ignis’ responses were short and evasive. Not to say they weren’t true, necessarily, he very probably was too busy to talk, but still. Friday—now that was the thing. As Shield of the future king, Gladio’s Crownsguard duties had traditionally always placed him at Noct’s side. After Noctis moved out of the palace, of course, Gladio’s assignments became more random (although he was hardly going to get assigned gate duty). When he reported for duty that morning, he learned he was going to be posted at one of the council rooms on the 14th floor, and what’s more, the meetings scheduled to take place were the District Zoning Board in the morning, and a meeting of the Trade Ministry with the recently arrived Arcusian delegates in the afternoon. Gladio couldn’t be sure Ignis’ fiancé was going to be involved with the meeting, but that didn’t stop it from dogging his thoughts all morning as he stood on duty. Although he refused to let it distract him from his job, with the quiet, dry nature of these meetings, the thought never left his head.

If the first meeting passed slowly, lunchtime passed so quickly Gladio’s head was spinning as he resumed duty, standing quietly inside the door of the council chamber as members of the ministry filed in, some running early. A couple stopped to make quick greetings, familiar faces who weren’t too uptight about “distracting” security.

Finally the ambassadors from Arcus arrived in a large group, shaking hands and making the rounds with those already present in the meeting hall. Gladio discreetly eyed the men among them up as they milled around, listening carefully for any hint of the one name he’d recognize, but with so many greetings and introductions happening at once it was difficult to distinguish, and Gladio wasn’t even certain the guy was here. Despite being a people person by nature, by the time the meeting started he had made up his mind to hate them all if he couldn’t narrow it down.

Several hours passed in the council chamber, with documents being passed around and explanations delivered, points being argued and Gladio had sorted the men in the party: smooth-tongued snake, cocky blowhard, cold intellectual, facetious man-child, amoral businessman, and gruff elder. He figured it probably wasn’t the last one. The women he was more charitable towards, without the bias.

When the meeting finally wrapped up, Gladio lingered until everyone had well and truly filed out, a few assistants with the Trade Ministry taking more time to unplug some of the devices they had set up and arranging the finer details while the more important members and the Arcusian guests left first. Once Gladio had reported in for the evening and changed into his plainclothes, he checked his cell to see if he’d gotten any texts. Nothing on that front.

As he headed out to the take subway home, he saw a few of the Arcusian set chatting in the lobby with additions.

“It lacks nothing in opulence,” one of men remarked about the Citadel, “but there could be a sight more assistance for navigation. Especially with the crowds of tourists in the main tower.”

Gladio figured he oughta help, and stopped as he was passing, the conversation quietening as he stood there. “Sorry, couldn’t help overhearing you might be lost. If you need someone to point you in the right direction, I can help with that.”

“Such hospitality,” the man said, eyeing him up. He wasn’t in the meeting before. “It’s too late, however. It would have been useful an hour past, but finding the exit should be simple enough.”

Gladio didn’t like his tone, but shrugged it off, excusing himself just as casually and letting them alone. As he retreated he heard the man remark, “Well! No help when you need it and nosy about it when you don’t. Are Insomnians commonly like this?” 

“Careful, Sabinus,” warned the old man from the meeting, “The man who passed is the sworn Shield of the young prince. Not an easy man to look down on, in many respects.”

It was the name, not the insult, that made Gladio look over his shoulder, staring hard as their eyes met before this Sabinus looked away and turned back to his circle. 

 

It was the next day as Gladio was taking a shortcut to the training hall, planning an after-shift workout, when he finally saw Ignis. “Hey, Iggy,” he said, breaking off his course and detouring over to the hallway that lead to one of the open-to-the-public restaurants in the Citadel. 

“Gladio,” Ignis said, looking surprised to see him and more than a little awkward as he stood there. “What brings you here?”

“Just going in to train. You should join me. I could use a good challenge.” Gladio eyed Ignis’ rigid posture and stiff demeanour. In Gladio’s less than professional opinion, he looked way stressed. “You could use it too, from the looks of it.”

Ignis lips pursed before answering, “Much as I’d love to, I’m unfortunately engaged.”

“Huh. So you been—?”

“Ignis,” a voice cut through their conversation, and they both turned to see a man, unmistakably Pariser, approach. Pariser immediately moved to Ignis’ side as he sized Gladio up. 

“Mr. Pariser,” Ignis said, his face assuming a neutral expression, “This is Gladiolus Amicitia, who you’ll know as the Shield of the Prince.”

“We’ve been over this. Call me Sabinus, please,” Pariser said to Ignis before turning to Gladio. “We’re to be married and you’d think he doesn’t know my first name.” Pariser rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re his co-worker then?” he continued, looking between the two of them briefly. “I believe we’ve met. I understand your family is rather well positioned-here in Insomnia,” Pariser said, trading his disdain of yesterday for a more amiable manner, either out of respect to Gladio’s status, or his fiancé.

“How did you meet precisely?” Ignis asked, shooting Gladio a curious look.

“Have you forgotten already?” Pariser said before Gladio could open his mouth, “I’m sure I told you at your parents’ last night about my predicament of navigating these halls with a want of directions. Gladiolus was quite good to offer help.”

We are not on a first-name basis, Gladio thought resentfully. Pariser might be the only person in Lucis whom Gladio preferred not to be on a first-name basis with, actually. Ignis, of course, had no interest in Gladio’s petty concerns and instead had a rather recognizable look of not being able to reconcile the information before him with his own understanding.

“I don’t reca—” Ignis began to speak before Pariser cut him off.

“You did seem awfully tired,” Pariser said, “You must have simply forgotten. No harm done, of course, but shouldn’t we be getting on? I won’t allow you to forget our reservation.”

Gladio didn’t know what to make of it and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “You havin’ dinner at The Atrium?” 

“Ignis is showing me around. This place has been highly recommended by my friends,” Pariser said.

It was an upscale place, and food was food, but if Pariser wanted fine Insomnian cuisine he’d be a good deal better off asking Iggy what was good. From the short window Gladio’d seen, he wasn’t in the habit of that.

“Maybe I could join ya,” Gladio said instead. “I’ve got a craving for their bruschetta. Then I could learn a little more about you. I’m sure you’ve got lots to say, coming from so far.”

Pariser did his best to brush it off. “As much as your interest flatters, I think it best left for some other occasion. Ignis here was saying how he looked forward to some time alone together at dinner.”

Yeah, Ignis never said that, Gladio thought, and it showed in his reaction.

“I—” Ignis said, warring between seeming impolite and setting the record straight.

“You said the environment last night was keeping you from speaking to me openly,” Pariser said.

“Ah…yes, I suppose I did,” Ignis said.

“Goodness knows why, your parents are lovely people,” Pariser continued, “Very accommodating, they have been from the start. At any rate,” he said, turning to Gladio, “As you can see, I’d prefer to indulge my fiancé’s wishes on this matter. I’m sure we’ll see you yet, Gladiolus.” He took Ignis by the arm and began to shepherd him down the hallway towards the elevator.

“Until later,” Ignis said stiffly to Gladio. It sounded difficult. 

Gladio’s jaw was locked in place, he was gritting his teeth so fiercely as Ignis and Pariser retreated. What a fucking asshole. Dragging Ignis around like he had the fucking right. Gladio’s mood had soured enough he wasn’t even sure he wanted to work out anymore. He couldn’t stand around the hall like a chump forever though, so at last he started walking towards the training hall, reasoning at least he could break out the boxing gloves and channel some of it the way of a punching bag.

 

Later that evening, he found himself on his bed with a book he was too wound up to focus on, to the point he eventually just dropped it next to a pillow and texted Ignis instead.

_hey u ok?_

It was a while before anything came through.

 _?_  
_I’m fine._

Gladio didn’t know what he was expecting really. After a moment of thought, he punched in another message.

_u free?_

_Define free._

_i can call u_

Gladio’s heartbeart worked overtime as he awaited Ignis’ response, which was a while coming.

_Give me five minutes. I need to excuse myself from present company._

Gladio pulled at the thread on the corner of his bedcover as he waited. True to his word, five minutes later his Crownsguard-issued smart phone was buzzing and ringing as he picked it up to take the incoming call.

“Hey,” he said.

“Mm,” Ignis responded, not bothering to announce himself under the circumstances. Gladio could hear traffic noises, not loud but definitely murmuring in the background.

“Where are you?”

“On the roof. So, what is it you needed to speak to me about?”

“What, I can’t just call you?”

Ignis sighed audibly, “Normally I’m not opposed, but you know this is a busy time. I assumed you had something of import to speak of. I have to return soon so I can start engineering how to escape here for the evening.”

“Could I see you?” Gladio asked suddenly, “once you’re out of there.”

“I have work to do,” Ignis said. His tone indicated he was sorry to keep blowing Gladio off like this, even if he didn’t say it. “I can’t tonight.”

“Tomorrow night then?” Gladio said. “Or Monday even? C’mon Iggy, you can say it’s a work meeting if you need to.”

“I’ll try and find time on Monday,” Ignis said. “If you’re willing to wait.”

“Monday it is,” Gladio said. “See you then.”

“Yes, see you then and…” Ignis hesitated for a moment. “Thank you,” he finished abruptly. The line went dead before Gladio could ask why. Gladio dropped his phone next to his book and fell back onto his pillow, hands pressed into his eyes, shutting out the world for a few seconds before dropping his arms to fall back to his sides. He picked up the phone and looked at the time. Too early to think about sleep. He opened up the call function and hit the second name under his frequently-called contacts. 

“Hey, you home?” he said. He could hear the music from a game in the background.

“Where else would I be on a Saturday night?” Noct replied grumpily. If they went out on the town, it tended to be at Gladio or Prompto’s behest, given Noct’s predilection for his bed and assorted couches, each with a deep human-shaped groove diligently worn into them over the past three years he’d been living in the place. Not that it didn’t make guarding him pretty easy, but it wouldn’t kill the kid to get out more. Nonetheless, it wasn’t what Gladio had in mind tonight.

“I’m coming over. Time for a rematch in _Insomnia Pro Wrestling_.”

“Only if you bring me food,” Noct said, “that isn’t Cup Noodles.”

“You’re not leaving me with a lot of options here.”

“Fast food’s fine,” Noct said. “Specs didn’t come today.” Gladio knew without a doubt the prince was getting his pout on about that.

“I’ll stop by that Galadhian food stall near the park. What kind of skewers you want?”

“Nothing gamey.”

“So an order of the tomato and zucchini then?”

“No veggies.” It was the bane of both Gladio’s and Ignis’ existence that this kind of thing was the only time Noct could actually summon up any kind of royal presence. “On pain of death.”

“Yeah, yeah, see you in a bit,” Gladio said.

“Prompto might come over after his shift. Bring some for him too.”

“Sure,” Gladio said, and grabbed his coat.

 

Time chilling with Noct and Prompto was nice and all, but it didn’t take Gladio’s mind off of Ignis’ situation at all, especially when they were so obviously not talking about the elephant in the room as they played round after round. When they finally called it quits for night, he headed back to the Amicitia manor instead of his apartment, figuring he might get to see Iris over breakfast, if she was awake. She was coming into that sleep ‘til noon phase normally associated with hormonal thirteen year olds and not grown-ass princes.

Of course his run of crappy luck held and he missed seeing her before he had to go work part of Sunday for a special conference. It sucked balls because, when all else failed, a dose of sibling silliness usually cheered him up. The only saving grace was it wasn’t all that long before conference was finished—but then he went back to dwelling on the marriage thing once more. Sick of feeling completely ineffectual and mopey, he decided to swing by Ignis’ office to leave him a note as a little Monday morning pick-me-up. To his surprise, however, he heard voices coming from the office as he approached, the door left slightly ajar. Ignis’ voice was immediately recognizable, and it didn’t take much to identify Pariser’s.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Ignis spoke, accompanied by the sound of shuffling paper.

“I understand it’s not intentional,” Pariser said, “But really, I thought things have been going on so pleasantly, and I just don’t understand why you do things like this.”

“Do things like what?”

“You always find some excuse.”

“Some excuse?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, but think a little of how things look from my perspective, why, I—”

Gladio had heard enough and knocked on the door, cutting Pariser short. 

“Yes? Come in,” Ignis called from inside. 

Gladio entered and both parties looked over at him in surprise. 

“Gladio?”

“Afternoon,” Gladio said, outright ignoring Pariser without being too obvious about it. “I wanted to check in about our meeting tomorrow.”

Pariser clicked his tongue, a hard-done-by expression crossing his face. Ignis looked his way for a second before turning to Gladio.

“Yes. I apologize for having to schedule it so late, but is 8 p.m. acceptable?”

“If that’s what we gotta work with, fine. I’ll stick around.”

“Perhaps you could have your little meeting now?” Pariser jumped in, looking at the both of them expectantly, as though he’d had some bright idea.

“Can’t,” Gladio said. “Confidential matter. Crown-related. No outsiders.”

“If I stepped out for a moment,” Pariser suggested accommodatingly.

“Gonna take a while. Reports, powerpoints, the whole deal.”

“Yes, it’s a professional matter, as I said.” Ignis was still examining the contents of a drawer, repurposed as a full-on filing cabinet, as he spoke. 

“Your messages hardly appear professional,” Pariser said dismissively but seemed to let it go. Gladio’s eyes went wide. Did he look through Ignis’ phone?

That drew Ignis’ gaze to Pariser, if only for a moment. “Take it up with the king, if you would,” he replied coolly, going back to digging through his desk and ignoring the both of them, “I’m hardly in a position to reprimand a co-worker about his choice of written correspondence, as long as it’s secure. Which is why I ask you not to read over my shoulder.”

“I’m sorry to have upset you but you must let it go. I am always to hear of this in our future?”

“I merely wish to impress the importance of what—”

“I understand, of course I do. So you must have this meeting tomorrow, then you will have it, but perhaps for now it’s best to be left alone? You did say you have much work to do once you secure that report for the Marshal, is it?”

“If I can find the bloody thing, yes,” Ignis said testily.

“Well then, Gladio, it’s been good to see you again. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon. It doesn’t do to overwork.” Pariser spoke as he opened the door, ready to show him out. It took everything Gladio had not to visibly seethe, but he exited without further word. Ignis was still lost in the contents of his drawer, and Pariser, with an entirely too affable expression on his face for what a piece of work he was, shut the door behind him.

 

After his Monday shift was over, Gladio went straight to his apartment, making a half-hearted attempt to make it look neat. He wasn’t gonna pretend he didn’t live there, but the trash probably needed to go out anyway and maybe one of Iris’ homemade candles (another phase that she seemed to be going through) would clear any lingering reek. Earlier in the day he’d texted Ignis a quick: 

_c u in the sunrise court room @ 8_

He figured that was safe enough. Ignis had read it but not responded, and if Pariser had seen it, well, it sounded like it could be a Citadel chamber and not just the name of Gladio’s apartment building. It wasn’t much but getting one in over Pariser felt like a small victory in the scheme of a shitty-ass battle they were definitely losing.

At eight sharp there was a rapping on the door and Gladio invited a weary-looking Ignis in. 

“Long day?” Gladio said, pushing the door shut as Ignis stepped in.

“Long everything,” Ignis sighed.

As Ignis toed off his shoes, Gladio wasted no time in getting to “business.”

“What’d ya like? Beer? Wine?”

“...Whiskey?”

“Going in.”

“I think I’ve earned a stiff drink.”

“Not gonna argue with ya there. Want it neat?”

Ignis huffed, flopping down on Gladio’s couch. “I still have some actual reports to go over later. Do you have any coffee about?”

“There might be a can or two of Ebony in the fridge.” Gladio only kept it around for the rare times Ignis was over at his place, but this was exactly why. If he could be Iggy’s provider-of-caffeine when times were harsh, he’d take it, regardless his opinions on the nasty concoction.

“Mm, that’ll do nicely.” Ignis folded one leg over the other, probably hounded by a millions lessons growing up about the importance of utter bullshit like perfect posture for the advisor to the heir apparent. Gladio just wanted to see him relax for once.

Gladio took a few minutes to fix up some drinks before moving to sit next to Ignis on the couch.

“Thank you,” Ignis said as he reached out to take the glass from Gladio, their hands brushing lightly. 

Gladio took a quick sip of his beer to push it out of mind. “You getting any sleep?”

“Adequate to my needs. If I’m out of sorts, it’s merely a matter of my waking hours being stretched to their fullest capacity.”

Gladio felt sheepish about demanding Ignis’ time if this was the state he found himself in. “Sorry if this is just making things worse. Just felt like we hadn’t hung out and—”

“No, this is a welcome reprieve. My evenings have been so tied up in entertaining, it’s nice to be the guest, for a moment.”

“You need to fake any more meetings in the next while, I’m always around to cover for you.”

Ignis’ lips twitched but he didn’t comment.

“So…I’d ask how things were going but I heard enough yesterday I think I know.”

“He’s insufferable,” Ignis said bluntly.

“Total bastard,” Gladio agreed. 

“I think he means well sometimes,” Ignis tried to amend, “but even I’m unsure.”

“He’s a controlling fuck.”

“He was given legal entitlement to be,” Ignis said, his fist curled tightly next to his thigh, “I’m just trying to understand how much of his actions are dictated by unconscious impulse.”

“Stop rationalizing it.”

“Should I not grant the benefit of the doubt now? How different from your usual tune.” 

“He’s here because of a marriage contract made when you were a kid. Voluntarily seeking it out was the first sign he was an asshole.”

“And when Noct’s time comes? Are we also to judge then?”

“That’s different,” Gladio said, not amused by Ignis’ attempted deflection. He mumbled under his breath, “For one, his future spouse could theoretically divorce him even if he was the King. None of this fucking _cum manu_ business.”

“Indeed,” Ignis said, swirling his drink around, little heart for an argument he hardly believed in anyway.

The room was silent for a moment but for the ice clinking in his glass. Gladio took a sip of his beer before plunking it down on the table. “Honestly, Iggy, you gotta know more about this than me, can’t you do something to stop it? If it’s just some old law that makes it binding, we could get it overturned or something. Or find one that cancels it out. What’s even in the Insomnian Charter?” Okay, he knew way more about this than he was letting on, but he was expecting Ignis to have a better grasp of the ins and outs than his miserable Moogle searches.

“Of course I’ve researched the matter. I’ve even taken a few steps as I’ve been able. But there is no easy escape clause, Gladio. Certainly nothing in the Charter which upholds the very concept of _potestas_ even as it fades from modern use. The problem is the laws were bundled in together, and in my particular situation involve the laws of two sovereign states. It’s not impossible to overturn the practice but it will take time, the moreso if it’s to be retroactive. Provisions will need to be made for those who already fall under the ordinance. It’s much easier to enter into such a status, than to reverse it.”

“How long, do you think?” 

“Years likely, between the courts, the council, and the renegotiation of agreements between Arcus and Lucis.” Ignis breathed out long and slow. “I should have started this long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” Gladio said. It wasn’t an accusation. There just wasn’t anything else to say, knowing all this shit.

“I was an idiot,” Ignis said.

“Hey,” Gladio said.

“I became so focussed on looking after Noct, trying to fulfill my role here, I didn’t think about how quickly it could be...”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” Gladio urged him. “He say something?”

“You know well he’s discontent with how I spend so much time working rather than ‘showing him around’ and ‘getting acquainted’ and such nonsense. He’s—,” Ignis broke off, needing a moment to gather himself, “he’s…insinuated that I might be ‘cured’ of it by a visit to Arcus. A permanent one, if I continue to ‘run myself ragged’ at work.”

Gladio was reeling at the thought of this guy actively removing Ignis to Arcus like some kind of trophy. “He’s a piece of shit,” Gladio spat out. “You can’t let him treat you like that.” 

“You think I care for it!?”

“I know you don’t take shit from anyone, so what’s the deal with him? Tell me at least you have a plan and I’ll hold back from grinding his teeth into the floor next time I see ‘im.”

“Don’t you dare. I have very few cards in my deck, Gladio,” Ignis said, a cornered but dangerous look coming over him. “If I can’t avoid this marriage, I should at least hope to avoid being relocated from Insomnia, and he could do it, you know. He has the right. No, if I play it right, I can at least not jeopardize my position as Noct’s chamberlain. I don’t wish to lose everything to a moment of anger.” 

“You shouldn’t have to lose anything!”

“I’ve spent a long time looking into this matter, Gladio, and there’s not a lot I can do, not without detriment to my family, which is not an option. It’s time to take the hand as it’s been dealt and play the long game.” Ignis sighed bitterly as he pushed up the frames of his glasses.

“There is something, isn’t there?” Gladio looked at him suspiciously. He’d known Ignis long enough to pick up a tell here and there.

“I don’t know why you’re so—”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” Gladio said, recognizing deflection when he heard it. “You found something?”

Ignis sighed. “One possibility, yes. I don’t care for it.”

“Well?” Gladio said. “C’mon, even if it’s a dud, it might give us somethin’ to work with.”

“It doesn’t. It’s unfortunately rather specific, and constrained to one set of treatises arranged betwixt our nations,” Ignis said, hands removed to his lap as he looked fixedly at the stacks of books on Gladio’s coffee table. “It’s yet another delightful old custom.” 

He lifted his eyes to meet Gladio’s next to him, filled with caustic sarcasm. “Did you know Lucis still recognizes duelling as a means to settle arguments of honour? One such protocol, held in common with both states, recognizes the right of a pursuant of a betrothed party to challenge a marriage bargain of this sort by fighting the other for the right. The object of the dispute would then be bound to marry the pursuant.”

“So, that means...”

“If someone fought against Pariser and won, I’d be compelled to marry them instead. The legal status of the marriage would not change, merely the partner.”

“If it’d get you away from him...”

“It’s still not worth thinking about,” said Ignis, “I have my pride, and I refuse to be bandied about like a prize. I won’t have it. If my parents sold my legal autonomy for their scheming, so be it, but I’ll not have it passed around to the next person keen enough to fight for it.”

“Then what will you have?” Gladio asked, anger rising as Ignis laid out the shitty fate that he seemed resigned to.

“What does that mean?” 

“What help will you accept to get you out of this?” Gladio pleaded, before the wind slowly left his sails, leaving him defeated. “You deserve freedom. You deserve so much better.”

“I…appreciate your candour, Gladio. You have ever been steadfast in your friendship, and I don’t fault your loyalty, but—”

“But nothing,” Gladio said. “Look, if I have to turn over every page of every law book in Lucis to get you out of this, I’ll do it.”

“You won’t turn up anything I haven’t,” Ignis said, shifting his manner to one of appeasement, wishing to comfort, to soothe, ever the nurturer towards those he cared for. It made Gladio feel important, most of the time, but now it just made his heart sink. “But if that’s your wish, I appreciate the spirit in which it is meant. Incidentally, if you do find anything, you have permission to call at literally any hour.”

“Thought I already had that privilege,” Gladio said, bumping his arm lightly, trying to put on his habitual front.

“Only in respect to Noct’s or the Citadel’s safety,” Ignis said with a catlike smile. “If you called me in the middle of a meeting to discuss your fantasy league mêlée team, I’d skin you alive.”

“Kinky,” Gladio said. “Wait a sec—could you fight Pariser? That would—”

“No, regretfully,” Ignis said, “It’s not how the procedure works. Being already functionally under his _potestas_ , I have no right to level a challenge without both my parents and Pariser’s own permission, and if he were to allow me to challenge him, which his behaviour has indicated he would not—”

Gladio grunted angrily at that. 

“—I would not under the law be able to marry myself, and thereby it would lapse back to him.”

“That fucking piece of shit,” Gladio said.

“Your vocabulary could use some expansion.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“Well I’ve seen you reading often enough, and yet your text messages have the wit of a—”

“You watch me read?” 

“I’ve…you realize you keep books around almost everywhere? Most anyone would know that much.”

“Yeah,” Gladio chuckled, “but I don’t usually read when I’m talking to you.”

“I—” Ignis trailed off, appearing mildly flustered. “Maybe I ought to go and get a start on those reports.”

“You’re welcome to stay, as long as you want,” Gladio said low and quiet. “As long as you need, to take a break from all the shit, but if you gotta do reports that’s fine too. Whatever you want.”

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis said, radiating gratefulness for so small a kindness, that only made the knot in Gladio’s stomach tighten. “But I should go. If you wish to arrange any future ‘work meetings’ in the next while, I’m not opposed, if I can clear a spot.”

 

The following days were decidedly devoid of Ignis’ presence nonetheless, barely spared a second from official and unofficial business to filial responsibilities. Although Ignis still spent considerable time seeing to Noct’s affairs, Gladio could tell how much of a sulk the prince was in with his reduced presence. Noct had recently started experimenting with more forms of weaponry as his warp skills improved, so they were supposed to be having a long session to hone Noct’s polearm skills but the prince’s mind was elsewhere.

“Get your head back in the game,” Gladio said, using his wooden blade to smack Noct across the ass as he let his guard down yet again.

Noct hit the floor but had enough training to roll out back out of it. “Fuck you, Gladio.”

“You’re fighting like you’re still in middle school.”

“This is new to me!”

“Basic form ain’t new to ya. Keepin’ your guard up ain’t new to ya.”

“Asshole,” Noct grumbled.

“Careful or Iggy’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”

“He would not.”

“Yeah, he lets you get away with everything.”

“Says the guy I learned it from.” 

“Just take a breather,” Gladio said, pre-emptively moving to sit on the floor, training sword across his lap. Noctis begrudgingly followed suite.

“D’ya wanna tell me what’s got you in such a mood or ya want me to guess? ‘Cause I think I’ve gotta a pretty good one.”

“Have you seen Specs lately?”

“Barely.”

“He’s not acting normal. Like, he’s trying to pretend like nothing’s a problem. Does he think I can’t see through it or something? It’s just…stupid.”

“If you think you can change that about him, good luck.”

“I know he really doesn’t wanna get married,” Noct said, tracing the seam of his boot with his finger listlessly. “And it kinda makes me think, is it gonna be like that for me too? Completely unable to do anything.” 

“Not gonna lie, I have no clue, but your dad actually gives a shit about you so there’s that.”

“Sometimes I think the only thing he gives a shit about these days is the Wall. I mean, I get why, but…” Noctis trailed off, unspoken thoughts drifting across his blue eyes before returning to their first subject. “S’there a reason Specs has been keeping the guy from meeting me. ‘Cause he totally is.”

“Dude’s a prize asshole,” Gladio said. He contemplated whether he should say the next bit or not, “Probably doesn’t wanna upset you.”

“That’s so…ugh. I’m already upset! Can I make a law? Ignis Scientia isn’t getting married. Signed, me.”

“Think you’d be shooting down all his romantic prospects with that one.”

“The only one he has is stupid anyway,” Noct mumbled.

“I know it’s not too reassuring, but he’s been pouring over the books trying find a way out of it. I’ve been at it a little myself. We might turn up something.”

“Might.”

“Technically, he already did. ‘Course he vetoed it to hell, but maybe there’s other exceptions on the books somewhere.”

“What was the exception?”

“Basically someone could duel Pariser to win Iggy’s hand.”

“And you haven’t already done that because…?”

Gladio tried to beat back the skip of his heart at the knowledge that Noct might actually be more perceptive than he’s willing to give him credit for. He coughed before saying, “I’m too young and too hot to be taken off the market just yet.”

Noct rolled his eyes.

“Iggy refuses to let anyone do it. I get it, he’d literally be forced to marry anyone who bothered, and there’s a lot of people who might like a shot at getting closer to you. I don’t think he wants that particular loophole to be public knowledge.”

“Why is he like that?” Noctis whined. He seemed to deflate, making his sudden full body twitch the more funny as he suddenly came alive, “Hey, can’t Ignis fight the guy himself? Win his own hand or whatever? He’s been training with you how long?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Gladio said, taking a moment to picture it in his mind’s eye, Pariser ready to piss himself as Ignis towered over him, a lance a hair’s breadth away from his throat. Or with the knives maybe? Realizing he hadn’t finished the thought, he turned back to Noct. “But no, it’d just revert back to the original arrangement. He can’t marry himself, so in the end he’d just be…still engaged.”

“Even if he killed him?” 

“What that would do for inter-kingdom relations aside, I think the guy’s got siblings. The contract didn’t specify who in that shitty family he needed to marry, from what he told me.”

“This is bullshit. I can’t just make a law?”

“Pretty sure Iggy has a five year plan that involves turning over a dozen laws and accords and rewriting the legislation while also murdering this guy and making it look like an accident at some point during their marriage, but it is shit and no, you can’t just ‘make a law.’ Maybe you should actually study the shit he prepares for you.”

“What’s even the point of having power if you can’t use it to help people?”

“Pretty sure the council and independent judiciary exist because one of your ancestors made his chocobo temporary ruler of the people.”

“Thanks for ruining it great-great grandpa.”

“You’ll be thankful one day when you literally don’t have to make tax policy decisions on your own.”

“Specs’d do it for me anyway…if he’s around.”

“Even he needs a little help sometimes.” He’d failed to make the atmosphere any less glum, but Gladio took a moment to center himself and stood up briskly. “Okay, enough talk. We gotta whip you into shape so my dad doesn’t kick my ass the next time I come up for review. It’ll make Iggy happy too. Maybe you can work out some special moves together once you’ve got the basics sorted, he’s already got all those fancy jumps worked out.”

“Fine,” Noct said, unenthusiastic but thankfully more focused than he had been prior to their discussion.

 

Gladio spent a lot more time in the both the Citadel and Amicitia manor libraries the next week, turning over tome upon tome trying to find the get-out-of-marriage-free card that he so wanted to be waiting somewhere in the thickly-bound law and history books there. His father’s study had more than a few rare books in its collection, none of which had proved remotely useful as of yet, but damned if Gladio wasn’t going to try. He was pouring over a domestic law book that was frankly and disgustingly confirming the shitty practices that had Ignis in a bind rather than offering solutions, when the door burst open and a freshly-back-from-school Iris appeared.

“Gladdy!” she said, “You’ve got a lot to answer for.” 

“Yeah?” Gladio said, flipping the book shut with a vengeance.

“Jared told me you’ve dropped by like, three times this week, and you said ‘hi’ to your very own li’l sis exactly how many times? Zero.”

“Didn’t know you missed me that much,” Gladio teased.

“Shut it,” she said, viciously poking him in the ribs. “You owe me something.”

He probably did, but that didn’t stop him from retaliating by messing with her hair.

“No! Ugh, why are you the worst?” Iris said, backing off and trying to fix her part.

“Like brother, like sister,” Gladio said. She looked like she might genuinely stomp off if he didn’t ease up however, so he said goodbye to his plans for his day off and conceded. “Okay, what’s the price this time?”

Victory brightened up her disposition as she announced, “There’s gonna be a fancy party in less than a week—like, King Regis is attending kind of fancy—and Dad said I’m allowed to go this time.”

“And you’re actually looking forward to it?” Gladio asked sceptically. He knew exactly what event she was talking about, a soirée of sorts to honour both the visiting diplomats and the urban development council for one of its milestone projects. Of course, that meant the Citadel gentry would be out in full force. The food was usually good and to some extent he could fuck around with Noct and Iggy in between all the pleasantries, but those kind of events were mind-numbingly dull for the most part and Iris had no idea what she was getting herself into.

“Yes, I am, so you better get used to the idea you’re not the only Amicitia who gets to be important anymore.”

“You know you’re the most important Amicitia to me, squirt.” 

“Don’t call me that and don’t be such a loser,” Iris said. “So, your punishment for ignoring your amazing sister all week is you have to take me dress shopping. Now.”

“You can’t just wear something you already have?”

“I really can’t. It’s my first proper party. Now come on,” she said, walking out of the study. Gladio quickly re-shelved the mess on his dad’s desk before heading to the front door, giving a friendly wave to the traitorous Jared, whose expression was carefully neutral if not bearing a hint of amusement, as he passed by. Iris ran down the stairs not long after, having traded her schoolbag for one of her purses and her hair carefully combed back into place.

They ended up visiting everywhere from fancy boutiques to the trendy teen chain stores looking for something that fit Iris’ high expectations. It took about two hours of trying on everything and anything while Gladio employed his best put-upon expression the entire time to no success, before she found something she was satisfied with. That didn’t stop her from dragging him into one last store before going home, a used clothing shop that had a high-cred reputation with the teens at her school, it sounded like. Gladio was surprised to see a familiar mop of blond hair putting clothes back onto hangars next to the register.

“Look who we have here,” Gladio boomed out as he came up behind Prompto, who yelped before spinning around.

“Oh yeah, scare a guy to death instead of saying hello, that’s a great idea,” Prompto said, a grin on his face nonetheless.

“Isn’t he the worst?” Iris said.

“Heya,” Prompto said, “Didn’t see you past your garula of a brother. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know.”

“Thought you wanted to shop, squirt,” Gladio said, which earned him a shoulder punch, but successfully steered her back to her search for the ‘perfect’ jacket.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” Gladio said, turning back to Prompto. 

“They cut my hours back even more at the camera shop. Had to pick up hours somewhere,” Prompto said. “The Crownsguard training stipend ain’t gonna pay for a new tripod on its own.”

“Guess not.”

“So…” Prompto said, as he moved to put the hangers on the racks. “S’it still a high-key trash fire with the Ignis thingy?”

Gladio sighed. “How much have you heard?”

“Noct’s been pretty bitchy lately,” Prompto said a little more quietly. “Don’t ever tell him I said that, by the way! But he’s been more…more…” he struggled to put a word to it.

“I getcha,” Gladio said, thinking back to their last training session.

“And then there’s that,” Prompto said.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing!”

“Out with it.”

“It’s just that you’ve…been all doom and gloom lately too and I never see Iggy anymore and it’s all just kinda weird and sucks, I don’t know,” Prompto rushed out, busying his hands with the work in front of him. 

“You ain’t wrong,” Gladio said, which seemed to assure Prompto he wasn’t getting yelled at for the moment.

“Just, what’s going on, like…it’d be nice to know,” Prompto said. “I feel kinda useless with this society stuff you guys all deal with.”

“Join the club,” Gladio grumbled.

“Huh,” Prompto said gloomily.

Gladio’s mood was back in the pits but he didn’t like seeing the kid so miserable so he offered an olive branch. “You can’t do much about this marriage bullshit, but it’s enough if you keep princess busy for the moment. It’s one less thing Iggy has to worry about.” 

“We’re gonna see a movie on Thursday. That new adventure flick,” Prompto said, cheering up a little.

“There ya go,” Gladio said. 

“What about you?”

“Working late. Then studying it up the rest of the night, I guess.”

“You should invite Iggy. It’s like all his favourite things, isn’t it?”

“Not a bad idea,” Gladio mumbled.

“What is?” Iris’ voice carried as she returned to where they stood near the counter, a hoodie draped over her arm. 

“Abandoning you in the store to be raised by the used clothing fairy for the next fifty years.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but dropped it, instead asking Prompto if he could ring her stuff up. He perked right back up as he gave his best customer service smile, and Gladio took the opportunity to shoot off a text.

_l8 nite study d8 on thurs?_

Any good mood that might have resulted from Prompto’s suggestion deserted upon receiving the response as they were leaving the store.

 _No. Attending a reception in the solarium that night. Crownsguard expense review next morning._

Gladio typed back:

_don’t sweat it_

Nothing worth looking forward to, then.

 

It was late on Thursday when his Crownsguard shift was over. Fortunately he’d gotten a later dinner break so he wasn’t as ravenous as he usually was after a double shift. He planned to head home directly, but his feet were taking him to the exit by way of the solarium. He was hopeless. He didn’t walk too closely, hugging the far wall, not wanting to be spotted through the glass panelling, but he kept the corner of his eye trained to the busy reception, trying to pick out Ignis. He found him, wearing a soulless smile as he stood next to Pariser, who was edging him out of the conversation yet again, it seemed. Gladio felt a stab of jealousy and anger all at once and whipped out his cell phone as he passed beyond the glass walls. Not far from the solarium was a little courtyard between some adjoining covered walkways. It wouldn’t be busy this time of night, so he called Ignis up as he made his way to sit on one of the benches there, needing to rest his feet a bit.

“Scientia speaking,” Ignis answered promptly.

“Hey Iggy, I just got off. I’m in the courtyard down the way. Come out and play hooky for a bit.”

He heard a muffled, “Excuse me for a minute, I have to take this call in privacy,” on the other end of the line. Gladio waited patiently as the noise from the reception faded and a door thudded shut.

“You’ve some nerve,” Ignis said over the line.

“C’mon, just breaking you out of somewhere you clearly didn’t wanna be.”

“I can’t ‘take this call’ forever.” 

“Didn’t know you were expecting forever.”

“God knows why I listen to you.”

“Got a sexy voice, I reckon.”

“The voice I’ll grant you, but the ego…”

“Heh, all part of the package.”

“For sale, are you?”

“You lookin’ to buy?”

“Buyer’s remorse lies down that road. You’re ridiculous,” Ignis said, failing to keep the humour out of his voice. Steps echoed through the courtyard as he appeared beneath the dim lighting of the walkway. He hung up the call as he caught sight of Gladio, and Gladio put his own phone away as he waved like a dumbass as Ignis approached. 

“C’mere. Sit down. You looked bored out of your mind in there.”

“And you’d do so much better?” Ignis said, moving to sit next to him.

“I wouldn’t. Never been the greatest at hiding what I really feel.”

“No?” 

“You know no.”

“Well, in light of that, please tell me you had some other reason to call me out here.” Ignis raked his hand through his hair as he spoke, pushing back straying strands. He tipped his head back as his hand fell back down, exposing the pale line of his throat in the moonlit darkness. “Honestly it’ll probably be worse having tasted a few minutes of freedom when I have to go back.”

“Wanted to see your face?” Gladio joked, subtly looking him over from head to collar to diamond studded shoe as they sat together. 

“You’re aware you’re an incorrigible flirt?” Ignis levelled him with a direct look.

“Anything wrong with that?” Gladio said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. 

Instead of rising to it, Ignis glanced away as he replied, “Some days.”

“C’mon, you like it.” Gladio nudged him with his elbow playfully.

“And therein lies the problem,” Ignis sighed, folding his hands on his lap.

“Huh?” Gladio said, his entire body turning to Ignis, abruptly attuned to whatever he might say next. Ignis closed his eyes in quiet resolve before turning to face Gladio.

“Surely, Gladio, you’ve noticed. That is to say—” Ignis’ eyes met his, pupils endlessly dark in the low light of the courtyard. “You have a way of making people feel special. You need to be careful with it. Wiser heads have been turned by less.”

Gladio ignored the cryptic stuff, his mind cruising on a single track under the moonlit sky. “You’re really fucking special,” he said, moving his hands to Ignis’ shoulders, to brace himself, to reassure him, he didn’t know. “The most, actually.”

“Gladio, I—” Ignis began, looking over the planes of his face with not just surprise but what Gladio could identify as desire. Gladio drank in the look on his face, the way he bit at his lower lip, before saying to hell with it and moving his hands up to Ignis’ face as he leaned forward to kiss him, Ignis meeting him halfway. It lasted barely moments before they drew back, eyes full of the other. 

“Iggy, that was—”

“Rather,” Ignis said, and moments later they were on each other once more, kissing more deeply, more tenderly than before. Gladio felt Ignis hands curl in the hair at his neck. They pulled back for a moment and grin met grin before they were chasing each other’s lips again. It was the utter revelation of the other’s interest, the sheer surprise of both parties, that perhaps dampened their awareness of their surroundings, approaching footsteps unheard until too late.

“What is this?” Pariser asked, storming over as they broke apart and quickly stood. They both dwarfed him in height but nonetheless it was he who had them on the defensive, caught doing something that should have been hidden. The anger that Gladio had, for the moment, forgotten began swelling once more. What right did Pariser have to say anything? Why the fuck couldn’t he leave Ignis alone for two goddamn seconds anyway?

“It’s—” Ignis began but clearly even his great mind couldn’t recover a situation which was so very obviously what it looked like.

“You spoke of business and yet this is where I find you. Perhaps I was naïve. To think I should see my fiancé whoring himself around with—”

Gladio saw red. He didn’t even think before he moved to land a blow on Pariser, but before he could punch in the asshole’s teeth, Ignis was there, physically blocking his strike with his arms, putting all his effort into countering the momentum and harnessing it to push against him, just as Gladio had taught him. Gladio dropped the blow and tried to get around him.

“Let me at the sonuvabitch, I swear to god, I—”

“You’ll do nothing!” Ignis said, struggling to hold Gladio back until the harshness of his tone snapped through the haze like Shiva’s ice and reason took hold. Gladio took a sudden step back.

Pariser, perhaps for once, was wise enough to hold his tongue as he looked them over, having retreated a ways in the wake of Gladio’s rage..

Ignis rubbed his forearm as silence took the courtyard for a moment before he uttered his next words as calmly as he could. 

“Gladio, leave.”

“Like hell I’m leaving you alone with him,” Gladio said, the fury still thrumming through him.

“Then both of you, leave!” Ignis snapped, emotion finally overriding his attempt at maintaining this charade of peace.

Ignis turned to Pariser, who was looking both shocked and affronted, seeing for the first time the man beneath the manners. “I will communicate with you later. Get out of here,” he said. Gladio swore he could see the hot anger cooling down to something more like resignation as Ignis suddenly slumped onto the bench they had been sitting on before that bastard interrupted them. He looked up at Gladio and said, “Just go.”

Gladio curled his fingers into a fist, and stalked off in the direction of the elevators to the training rooms. He heard the retreat of Pariser’s footsteps in the direction of the hall behind them, but he didn’t look back.

Gladio’s thoughts raged as he walked away. That Pariser fuck had no right to say shit to Ignis. No right to order Ignis around. No right to interrupt that moment, that amazing moment where everything that wasn’t them should have just fallen away. He had no right to take him away. Fuck.

And Ignis, he—gods, for the first time he knew that it wasn’t just him, his imagination, whatever. It was there, between them. They both felt it. And here Ignis was being handed over to that shitstain, because of some old laws and his family’s fuck-ups when he was five. This harrowing thought served best to cool his temper a little from the dangerous limits it had reached.

Gladio entered the training rooms, gazing at the various weapons available to him, but as he took a second to breathe deep, he knew none of them were going to slake his sudden need to murder that asshole, whereas there was something else he needed to and could be doing if he just calmed down. He took another deep breath, sat down, whipped out his phone, and began punching in a text.

_sry if i hurt u earlier_

Not long after came the reply.

_It’s fine._

_sry_

He stared at his phone, trying not to count the seconds he waited for a reply, if one was even going to be forthcoming. Though the wait felt horribly long, the answer arrived not a minute later.

_It’d be more convincing if you could be bothered to type it out._

Gladio took a risk.

_sry_

He squinted nervously at his phone as he waited for the incoming response. There’s was a 50% chance that got Ignis to laugh, and a 50% chance he fucked up any possibility of further messages. Luckily a text came through.

_Too late now._

Gladio wisely didn’t ask if that was about typing, or apologizing. He wrote another text, and after no response, a couple more.

 _hope ur doing ok_  
_i won’t do it again_  
_maybe_

Ignis’ response came through quickly after the last.

_That remains to be seen._

Still totally ambiguous, but Gladio wanted to think he was in a better mood than when he left. Enough to risk calling. Sure enough, Ignis picked up.

“Hey,” Gladio said.

“Is it important?” Ignis said.

“Just needed to hear ya,” Gladio said. “You still out there?”

“Returning soon,” Ignis said. “My absence won’t escape notice for long, and I need to smooth things over with Pariser.”

“Yeah,” Gladio said, avoiding the obvious argument waiting between them. “I’m gonna head back to mine, I think.” There was a long pause which Gladio ached to fill with all that needed to be said between them no matter how difficult, unpleasant, or raw it might be. “Iggy, I…you’re…”

“Hmm?” Ignis’ voice came over the phone.

Gladio honestly couldn’t put to words all he wanted to say, not now. It wasn’t something for a phone conversation anyway. In the end, he changed to a different tactic. “Your blocking skills are amazing, who’d you learn them from?”

He could hear poorly hidden, choked laughter on the other end and knew he’d struck gold.

“‘Night,” Gladio said as it subsided, letting a kind of gentleness seep through his tone.

“‘Night,” Ignis answered him, and hung up.

Gladio put his head in his hands. It wasn’t everything it should have been, but at least they’d cleared the air, a little.

 

Despite heading back to his apartment, Gladio was nowhere near ready to sleep after the fucked up events of the day, and so he ate a late snack, got in a few reps with the weights he had at home, and cracked open yet another tome taken from the Citadel’s legal library, thinking it might help put him to sleep. 

It wasn’t a surprise it didn’t work. Gladio tried to focus on the text, but he had no concentration. Everything that had been happening lately was just too much to deal with, and part of him burned with restless energy he didn’t know where to direct. He wanted to beat that Pariser asshole into the ground. He wanted to kiss Ignis again, feel him warm in his embrace, let the realness of it chase away his paltry imaginings. He wanted to smooth away the lines in his brow, see Ignis smile again, not the plastic curl of lips he’d resigned himself to since all this shit began. Gladio just wanted to be doing anything, not sitting around brooding because some archaic custom that had all but fallen out of use still had legal clout. In the end he was distracted from being distracted by a knock on his door.

He dog-eared the page he wasn’t reading and put the book aside, stretching his arms as he stood before moving to see who it was.

“Iggy?” he said, surprised to find Ignis standing there, looking equally restless.

“Might I come in?”

“‘Course,” Gladio said, stepping out of the way to let Ignis pass through. On instinct he quickly scanned the hall before pulling the door closed and turning to follow Ignis, though there wasn’t much following to be done because almost as soon as he did, Ignis jumped on him, fingers fisting into his shirt and mouth pressed up against his with a fervid passion.

Without thinking Gladio wrapped his arms around him, falling into the embrace, letting Ignis deepen the kiss as the space between their bodies dwindled to nothing. His every nerve felt like it was on fire, the pent-up passion he had been so used to denying rising like a bonfire searing through his skin. He shuddered at the fingers twining in his hair. He revelled in the feeling of his lips, dry maybe, but insistent, eager against his own. He basked in the little sounds, of desire, of need that slipped between them. He pushed Ignis against the wall, trapping him in his arms, as Ignis’ tongue invaded his mouth in a sloppy kiss. He could feel the rapidity of Ignis’ pulse against his hand as he rested it on his neck, thumb tracing gently along his chin, tilting him up just that bit more—a frenzied heartbeat he knew matched the speed of his own. Gladio could feel the shudder as he dragged that hand lower along the musculature of his chest, then along his ribs. He could feel the hands slinking down his back in response, angling to pull him in as closely as possible, joined from sternum to thigh. 

It was so good. So, so good, more than he could have dreamed, holding him like this, and yet, somewhere in all this, as he slowly stroked his hands up and down Ignis’ waist, as he felt Ignis lift a leg to curl it around the back of Gladio’s own, felt him press half-hard against his thigh (and didn’t that just wreck him?), he also had the sense that something was very wrong.

“Iggy,” Gladio said as he drew back from the kiss, releasing his hold and backing away, to little effect. “Iggy, stop,” he said, putting distance between them, but it fell on deaf ears as Ignis tried to reel him back into the embrace, determined. “No, stop,” he said more firmly, grabbing Ignis’ shoulders and stilling him with his strong grip. 

Ignis’ expression then was a cross between anger, guilt, betrayal and badly attempted indifference. An expression Gladio could easily go another twenty-one years without seeing again. “What’s going on?” he said, rubbing his thumbs lightly against the ridge of Ignis’ shoulders in attempt to placate.

It only served to make Ignis roughly push him away, and Gladio let him go as he walked a few paces further into the apartment to put distance between them, every step marking out his agitation. Ignis wouldn’t even look at him as he said, “Don’t.” 

What does that mean, Gladio thought. What in fucking hell does any of this mean?

With a tone that might be said to have cruelty in it if Gladio hadn’t known it was only the voice of someone so unused to being vulnerable vainly trying to push themselves back towards indifference, Ignis said, “I apologize. It seems I was mistaken. I should take my—”

“Mistaken about what?” Gladio said, not softening his words. There were times when blunt truth and a bull-headed refusal to let things slide were the only weapons he had, and while it was rarely Ignis he used them against, he had the feeling after everything that had been happening for the past few days, past few weeks, Ignis might be also be itching for a fight right now.

“It doesn’t matter. Frankly our interactions will soon be limited, there’s no—”

“First off, like hell, and second that’s not the point.”

“Like it or not, it’s the way it’s going to be. I… I was foolish enough to think your words and actions in the courtyard indicated interest. I came here looking for something that wasn’t there, but rest assured I won’t be troubling you—” 

“Ignis,” Gladio said, as he had not said his name for a very long time, not to the man standing before him. It finally brought those disappointed, unnerved, angry green eyes to meet his own. “Enough with the bullshit. God knows, I want you, but I want you. Not some quick fuck to get it out of your system before some controlling asshole takes over your life.”

He could see, somewhere in the storm of those eyes, how much it hurt, but Ignis had put far too much effort into perfecting his cold reserve over the years of his training, and in his words at least that won out.

“I’m sure he’d be touched by how much respect you have for his intentions. You won’t have to wait long for that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with wanting to act as I wish while I still can?”

Gladio knew. Gladio knew whatever had been said or done when Ignis had gone to ‘smooth things over’ had set him further on edge. Gladio knew he would fall off that edge with Ignis if he gave it too much thought. He refused to think about that fucker now. For now, there was only what was in front of him. He pushed everything else aside and bluntly, painfully answered.

“Nothing, but if you think you can just fuck me and leave me, then maybe I don’t know who you are.”

He knew it hurt. It hurt to even say it. And there Ignis was standing, shoulders crumpled, head turned, refusing to meet his eyes. Gladio reached out then and brushed his fingers along Ignis’ chin, and pushed past the darkness ripening between them to what he really believed. “But I doubt it. I’ve studied the subject too long.” He could feel it, the way it went through him, shaken as Ignis was by everything that had happened. Gladio lowered his head, trying to hold those evasive eyes in his gaze. “Talk to me, Iggy,” he said, his tone gentle. “What’s going on up there?”

There was a long silence filled only with the sound of their breathing. Gladio’s fingers rested against Ignis’ cheek, but his eyes were closed, refusing to answer Gladio’s searching gaze until at last they fluttered open as he spoke.“Could you…might you just…hold me, for a moment?”

It wasn’t even seconds before Gladio’s body complied, arms pulling him in to eliminate the space between them, Ignis’ face pressed in the crook of Gladio’s neck as one of Gladio’s hands tangled in his hair. “If I never let go?” Gladio asked.

Gladio felt the brush of lips against his neck as Ignis mumbled his response against the skin there. “Dehydration will probably kill us first, although there are other possibilities.”

Gladio smiled a little wistfully, and said, “Might be worth it.”

The laugh he felt more than heard. As they stood there, Gladio felt him, god, just felt him in his arms. It was right. It was so much more right than anything that had been happening for the past month and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

“You have no idea what you are to me,” he said at last.

“You never told me,” Ignis answered, and of course he was right. Even if it had always been hopeless, even if it’d have changed nothing, Gladio should have said it all to begin with and known, instead of kept it away, playing it off as mindless flirting and affectionate banter. He tried, now.

“Iggy, you—”

But even as he began to speak he could feel the shake of the head against his neck, halting him in his words. Perhaps the both of them weren’t all that different in the end. Maybe this was the intimacy Ignis couldn’t know and still move forward. Even if all he would be left with was regret, Gladio fell back to silence at the command.

“I should go,” Ignis said at last, swiftly pulling away from his arms and moving towards the entrance. His features had been schooled into a collected appearance but Gladio couldn’t be bothered to do the same. If he had to watch him go, etched on his face would be every ounce of love, worry and concern he held, telling the truths he couldn’t share. 

“Want me to walk you down?” Gladio said, watching his back.

“No,” Ignis said and reached for the door. His hands paused on the handle, his back turned to him as he spoke, “Thank you, Gladio. I…very much wish that things were different,” Without further ado, strong fingers pushed down against the handle, and Ignis walked out into the night.

Gladio stared at the closed door in front of him. He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair roughly, and decided to try and get some sleep. 

 

Gladio didn’t see him after that, and contacted him only cautiously. Ignis reached out to him only once, to make a request. Claiming to be occupied with other arrangements, he wanted Gladio to call in at Noct’s before the soirée on Tuesday, to make sure he was ready. Gladio knew it wasn’t necessary, (who cared if princess was a little late? he’d still come), but he also knew Ignis rarely wasn’t there to make sure Noct was prepared to princely standards and so he agreed to step in to ease his mind.

Iris would be arriving separately as a result but he could hear her music blasting from her room as she locked herself in to get dressed up. She probably didn’t need him. He wasn’t fond of formal wear himself, too hot, too tight as far as he was concerned even if it was bespoke, and too stuffy-looking for his tastes. If it was his Crownsguard formals that’d be one thing, but he wasn’t attending as a member of the Crownsguard, he was attending as the Amicitia heir. Despite his huffiness, he got dressed down to the polished leather shoes and making good on his favour, Gladio showed up at Noct’s apartment a solid forty-five minutes in advance to be sure Noctis was good to go. Noctis let him in looking showered but most definitely not ready, as expected. Gladio simply gave him a hard glare.

“Don’t say it. Just give me a few,” Noctis said, scowling in return as he let him in.

“Fine, but I’m having a beer while you get pretty,” Gladio said, heading straight for the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of Crystal Coeurl, pried the lid off and moved to the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. On said coffee table were two very heavy, very aged books, one lying open, the other with coloured place markers sticking out of it. 

Now that’s a miracle, Gladio thought. He picked up the closed one and read the peeling gold print off the spine. _Laws and Ordinances of Lucis, vol. 5, M.E. 325-482_. Just light reading then. He reached for the other book, using his thumb to keep place while he flipped back to the first page. _Lucis - Treaties and Accordances, vol. 3: Nebula; Arcus; Mare_. Gladio didn’t know whether it was worth it to tell Noctis not to bother. He’d read that one pretty damn thoroughly. He flipped back to the page it was left on and leaned in to read the finer print. As expected, it was the section on civic agreements that recognized that godforsaken practice of marriage _cum manu_ in both states. The lift of pages to the right suggested there was another bookmark inside, so Gladio lifted up from the gap and found a thin disc of what looked like fishing line crammed in between the pages covering redresses for legal disputes, including honourable combat. Gladio let the pages fall back into place and leaned backwards into the sofa, taking another swig of the lager. 

Eventually Noctis wandered out looking acceptably put together for the occasion. 

“Got some real thrillers here, Noct. Pretty sure Iggy’d cry tears of joy if he saw the sticky tabs,” Gladio said as he moved to stand.

Noctis didn’t bother to reply, but merely rolled his eyes.

“Since he’s not gonna say it, I may as well,” Gladio said, clapping Noctis on the arm. “Thanks for trying.” He looked back at the books. “It’s pretty much all shit though.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed. 

Gladio went to put on his shoes. “Ready to move out? Got a call from your ride earlier, Jenica’s waiting.”

“Sorry, give me one sec. I forgot something,” Noctis said, moving back to his room.

“Seriously, brat?” Gladio said. “Get your ass in gear already.”

“I’m coming. Don’t be such a hardass.”

“For that we’re doing double the reps during warm-up tomorrow,” Gladio said, folding his arms as he watched Noctis awkwardly slip on his barely worn-in dress shoes.

“That better be a joke.”

 

The party kicked off with a brief mingling before the meal, which meant Gladio and Noct were the centre of much attention on arrival, making pleasantries in absence of the king. Although Gladio had previously made up his mind to hate the Arcusian visitors on principle, he ended up speaking with more than a few of the diplomats who wandered over to introduce themselves to Noct, and, okay, so they weren’t awful on the whole once he chatted to some of them. He had been keeping an eye out for Ignis and Pariser, not sure how he’d manage to be in the same room honestly, but they seemed to be late arrivals. He was busy helping Noct make small talk with the VP of Urban Development when he caught one of the women he’d talked to earlier gossiping behind him.

“Look who’s arrived. I suppose he wasn’t lying about his invitation.”

“Likely through his fiancé, no?” her partner answered. Gladio turned as surreptitiously as he could manage to see Ignis and Pariser enter the room.

The Arcusian diplomat clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “The way he carts that poor boy around…”

Gladio lost track of the conversation as he honed in on Ignis who was looking even worse than before, if you knew what signals to read. He didn’t get a moment to process before the attention of the whole party was called to the arrival of King Regis. The king’s presence meant the mingling was over and the party adjourned into one of the Caelum Via’s most opulent dining rooms for a meal. Noct, of course, had to sit next to his father at the head table, and the Amicitias were placed at their right, with Iris arriving just short of too late to be fashionable but no less eager than she’d been two hours ago. Ignis hadn’t been placed anywhere near them and it meant Gladio was staring murderously across the way through all the speeches and recognitions and most of the meal, although the food wasn’t bad by any means and Iris was eager enough to chew their dad’s ear off with stories while she had the chance. She forced Gladio into enjoying himself a little too, but mostly he wasn’t in the mood and looking over at Noct, who was probably seeing Pariser for the first time, he wasn’t the only one stewing in anger. 

Gladio wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not when dinner ended which meant they could move to the last phase of this party, music, wine and conversation on the roof, this time with the king in attendance. His father immediately joined the king’s entourage while Gladio moved to rejoin Noct, and Iris followed his cue as they went up to the rooftop that offered a stunning view of Insomnia lit up at night.

Gladio kept an eye out for Ignis as Iris started chatting up Noct, a little shy at first but quickly gaining more steam, despite interruptions from passing partygoers who’d failed to speak to them earlier now stopping to give regards. Gladio caught sight of the pair coming through the doors, getting caught in conversation almost immediately by some councillors familiar with Ignis. Gladio kept an eye on them the whole time, ignoring Iris occasionally elbowing him in the ribs. The councillors moved on to join one of the circles forming near the king, and he could hear Pariser’s voice carry over to where they were standing.

“Isn’t that Prince Noctis there? You really should introduce him to me. He is your liege after all. Let’s—”

“Ah, Sir Bacalia,” Ignis said, ignoring Pariser’s words in favour of catching the attention of a nearby diplomat and drawing him into conversation with them. His plan to keep his slimy fiancé away from his charge was clearly still in effect. Noct had definitely noticed it too, his gaze fixed on the pair.

“‘Scuse me, I need to do something,” Noct said through gritted teeth.

“What?” Iris asked, curious and more than a little surprised as he stalked off.

“Someone’s gotta,” Noctis muttered. The non-answer left Iris baffled and Gladio feeling suddenly tense. A feeling that was completely warranted because before he could properly process it Noctis had gone up to where Pariser and Ignis were standing, reached into his suit jacket to pull out one of his fuckin’ fishing gloves, and smacked Pariser across the face with it.

“I challenge you to single combat for the hand of Ignis Scientia in marriage.”

The entire rooftop went silent. 

It was probably safe to say in that moment no one even breathed.

Gladio certainly wasn’t.

Iris had both her hands over her mouth in shock, eyes bugged out.

Ignis looked unsure of reality in general.

Oh god, the King. The King was present. Regis looked like he’d aged ten years in the last ten seconds.

His own father had a look Gladio did not fondly recall from adolescence.

Pariser looked like an anak caught in headlights, completely and utterly off guard. Nevertheless, slowly, jerkily, under Noct’s defiant stare, he stooped down to pick the black-and-white angling glove up from the ground.

The silence dissipated all at once.

Gossip was breaking out all over the rooftop. King Regis (with his Dad behind him) was striding towards Noctis. Council members were holding urgent counsel amongst themselves. Ignis looked like he was struggling to settle on which account to reprimand Noctis first. Pariser was looking over at some of the other guests from Arcus holding frantic but confused conversation through eyebrows alone. Iris was tugging excitedly on his arm, saying “Gladdy, what just happened!?” 

Gladio said nothing, but put a hand on her shoulder and marched them over to where Noct was standing with Ignis, still staring down Pariser and about to get an earful from the king himself.

“Noctis, I’ve no idea what has so made you forget your position but you may not do this! You will not,” Regis said, his tone brooking no argument as he hobbled over.

Noct looked uncomfortable and embarrassed being under scrutiny from his beloved father, but Gladio had to give out respect to the kid for standing his ground because he refused to back down.

“Sorry, Dad, but, I already did. So,” Noct said, looking at Pariser again, “Let’s have this out here and now.”

“Noctis!” Regis said, his tone as stern as Gladio’d ever heard it.

“Too late, Dad.” 

“Your majesty,” Pariser said in acknowledgement to the king before warily turning to answer Noct, “You may be prepared, your royal highness, but assuredly I am not.” Pariser had wits enough to hide any insult from royalty at least. “I presume the right to dictate terms falls to me as the challenged party?”

“Make ‘em simple,” Noctis said.

“Noctis, this is not acceptable,” Regis said, but his attention was urgently being vied for by nearby council members who wished to speak with the king and so Noctis was spared for the moment.

Failing to be saved by the king’s interference, Pariser named the terms readily under Noct’s unyielding stare. “Then we may convene in an hour, and the weapons shall be the sword, and there is to be no use of the special gifts I’ve heard of your line.”

“Got it,” Noct said, snatching the glove out of Pariser’s hand.

Pariser’s offence was obvious, but he seemed wary of displaying it to someone of Noctis’ status, however young and immature Noct appeared to him. Casting a disapproving gaze on their little circle, he pronounced, “I must speak with my companions.” The bastard had the nerve to look for Ignis to follow him. Gladio stepped right in front of him, crossing his arms and using every inch of height to stare Pariser down with an unforgiving expression. That sack of shit wasn’t taking Ignis anywhere.

A scowl crossed Pariser’s face, but he turned and left without further comment.

With the king caught up in discussion with the councillors who were present , small groups of Arcusians convening together, and the rest of the party-goers too busy gossiping in their little circles, having gotten a much more exciting evening than they’d planned for, Gladio, Ignis, Iris and Noctis were left to their own council, undisturbed but for the multitude of eyes cast towards the prince. 

Ignis looked around briefly at the room, before flat-out ignoring the stares and gripping Noctis by the shoulders. “Noct, you cannot do this!” 

“Can, and am,” Noctis said avoiding eye contact. Gladio wanted to clap him over the head for the tone, and maybe clap him on the back for support.

Ignis dropped his hands as the tittering of the crowds gained a decibel.

“What on Eos possessed you to—” Ignis said, shaking his head, trying to push down his feelings and not make a show, no doubt. “How did you even know?” 

Of course Ignis was too smart to wait for an answer and the gears had obviously clicked in his head as he turned to look at Gladio.

“It’s not on me. Did not see this coming,” Gladio said, waving his hands.

“Didn’t you?”

“Trust me, everything about this was a hella surprise,” Gladio said. Seeing Ignis pinch the bridge of his nose, Gladio couldn’t resist throwing in a little light-heartedness as he pointed his thumb at Noct and stage-whispered. “He read books.”

“And who’s the guy who told me I need to ‘study my shit?’”

“Watch your language around my sister.”

“You can’t talk, Gladdy,” Iris said, “and I’m not a kid.”

The sibling quarrel might have carried on, had Ignis not brought their attention back to the issue on hand with an emphatic, “Noct. Why?”

“You deserve better than him,” Noctis said under his breath, his body language uncomfortable like it had been with his father, yet equally firm. “And if you won’t forgive anyone else for doing this...,” he said, raising his head to look up at Ignis, “you’ve never not forgiven me. I’m taking care of you, this time.”

Even if you asked him, Gladio wouldn’t have been able to articulate just what the look was on either of their faces at that moment. It was probably something only they understood, in their weirdly complicated interdependence that spanned so many years, so much of their time.

Whatever the moment was, it was interrupted by rising voices to their left.

Noct turned to see councillors arguing next to the king who was making his way back to them. “I think my dad’s coming to kill me,” he said.

“Eh, your dad’s a softy,” Gladio said. “Mine might kill you on his behalf, though. Think you gave the king a heart attack, earlier.”

“For real,” Iris said.

“Prompto’s likely to finish the job when he learns you didn’t invite him. I’m sure he’d want pictures,” Ignis added under his breath.

“Crap, didn’t think of that,” Noctis said.

“That, I believe,” said Ignis. Gladio grinned.

Gladio decided he ought to take this brief chance to pull Noct aside before the king reached them. He put his hand on Noctis’ shoulder and leaned to get more on a level with him. “Brat,” he began and earned himself a glare. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on up there,” he said, rapping Noct on the head, “but you beat his ass into the ground and make me proud.”

“Will do,” Noct said, steel in his eyes. Noct was shortly thereafter pulled away by the king and Gladio’s father and a handful of councillors, no doubt for a private audience where they could try to dissuade him of any further action. As confused about what was going on as he was, Gladio had faith that it would fall on deaf ears. The council in accordance with the king technically had the right to veto any decision made by the prince under the special circumstances of his role, but they needed a quorum and any formal action couldn’t technically be undertaken until tomorrow. Gladio just hoped Noct knew what he was doing, because tomorrow wasn’t looking bright if the council ended up revoking the outcome of the duel.

“Shall we convene elsewhere also?” Ignis asked, watching them retreat to privacy. “With some time to go before the performance, I’d rather not remain here. Those ministers look like they want to come over and talk.”

“Yeah, let’s move inside,” Gladio said, seeing the party approaching from a distance. He moved a hand behind both Ignis and Iris on either side of him, guiding them towards the door that led in to the multi-storey aquarium. It wasn’t long before they were inside that Ignis’ phone went off.

“Excuse me, I should very probably take this call,” Ignis said. He retreated a ways out of earshot, leaving the siblings together in the wide rotunda.

Iris bobbed her head from side to side for a moment, as though listening to music although the sound from the rooftop couldn’t carry here, before looking up at him. “So, this whole marrying Ignis thing,” Iris said, blushing a little, “is it like…?”

“Like?”

“Are they together?” she blurted out. “Because that would be awkward.”

“What? Because of your little crush?” Gladio said. 

Iris punched his arm, “Or because of yours.”

“You knew?”

“Gladdy, I’m your li’l sis. And you’re completely transparent also. ‘Iggy this, Iggy that, watch me make googly eyes every time he comes over,’ stop, stop!” she laughed, struggling within Gladio’s grasp as he rubbed his knuckles into her forehead, “Mercy!” 

“Like you deserve it,” Gladio said, letting her go.

He sat down on one of the benches lining the wall as he tried thinking of an answer to her question, but gave up quickly. “I feel like the less questions asked, the better right now.”

“Is Ignis’ fiancé really that terrible?” she said as she settled beside him.

“You have no idea how badly I want to make him eat dirt,” Gladio said. 

Gladio startled slightly to hear Ignis say, “Not half as much as I do, for a start” as he rejoined them. 

Iris—who, Gladio was just saying, was definitely the most transparent Amicitia, whatever shade she wanted to throw at him—looked between them and made a show of getting up and saying she wanted get a closer look at the fish in the aquarium. Ignis did not make any comment, but took the seat next to Gladio as she skipped off to the middle of the room.

“Everything okay?”

“My family,” Ignis said, waving his phone before pocketing it. “News travels fast.”

“What did you tell them?”

Ignis shook his head. After a long silence, he pronounced, “This, is a disaster.”

“Sure is,” Gladio said, gently reaching out to take one of Ignis’ hands from his lap, moving it to the bench between them. “Still, kinda exciting?” 

Ignis didn’t respond, but as their hands rested there his fingers threaded with Gladio’s, and they sat like that, in quiet support, until they were rounded up by one of the Crownsguard on the appointed hour. 

 

The Caelum Via hotel was not exactly designed for duels but the hotel staff had managed to clear away the tables from room in which they had dined earlier, leaving a largish space with wooden floors, on which they’d laid down some tape to mark off the ‘duelling grounds.’ Honestly Gladio wondered how much it had to throw your shift off when suddenly you were being requested to set up a fighting arena by royal order, but for the most part his attention was less with the staff and more with the obnoxious form of Pariser standing in the middle of the room slashing his wooden blade through the air in some sad kind of warm up attempt. Which poor member of the Crownsguard had to courier over said training swords, Gladio didn’t know, but he was determined to buy them a drink once he found out.

The crowd was kept small, most of the party still on the roof, only a few of the Arcusians present as Pariser’s witnesses. Gladio and Iris had gotten access by pulling rank, and along with Ignis they were now standing by the king’s intended seat. Beyond that there were only the Crownsguard monitoring the event to bear witness to the duel, but an electric atmosphere fuelled the room nonetheless as the King entered, followed by Noct and a handful, but certainly not all, of the councillors. The King took his chair, and Gladio’s own father stepped up to officiate the duel as head of the Crownsguard.

“Your Highness, Mr. Pariser,” Clarus said, as Noct took his practice sword and walked into the makeshift ring.

“The rules of combat are as follows. Combat is confined to the delineated grounds, and must cease when the match is concluded. Nor shall the mechanism of honourable combat override any legal consequences of causing severe or fatal injury to your opponent. There is to be no magic of any kind,” Clarus announced, looking specifically at Noct, before finishing, “and the match is decided when one opponent becomes disarmed. Do you accept these precepts and swear to act in accordance with them?”

“I do, Lord Amicitia.”  
“Yeah.”

Gladio could swear his dad was giving Noct a restrained version of the stink eye for his response but continued without further ado. “If you are ready, step back to the edge of the field and raise your swords in salute.” 

They both retreated to opposing ends of the marked territory. Gladio observed Pariser carefully. He hadn’t seemed much of a swordsman so far, but he’d have training of some kind. He certainly trusted it enough he accepted a duel, although that might have also been about avoiding losing face. Pariser also seemed to believe Noct, significantly younger and smaller by comparison, relied entirely on the powers of the Crystal to fight. Famed as the magic of Lucian kings was, the reality was the Crystal’s magic was a fickle bitch most of the time and Noct had only learned to warp in recent years, to say nothing of his shitty grasp of magic. It wasn’t the King or the members of the ‘Glaive, but Gladio who had trained him up since he was still in elementary school, and that had all been in basic sword-fighting technique, not a drop of magic to it. Pariser was doomed to fail.

At Clarus’ signal, they engaged. Gladio was proud to see Noct was keeping proper stance, defensive but loose enough to allow easy movement. Pariser was hesitating, coming closer as they danced around the small space, but clearly unlikely to lay the first blow. Noct, seeing this, quickly stepped forward, thrusting his blade. It was intercepted by Pariser—he had at least that much skill—but Noct was lightning fast as he deflected the blade away and brought his back up to whack Pariser’s arm. An insignificant hit, but one that would probably leave a bruise for him to remember the fight by. Pariser tried to land a hit himself while Noct was so close in his space, but Noct backed up, carefully minding the limits of the ring. Perhaps thinking he could end it if he pushed Noct outside the bounds, Pariser suddenly charged, but the move was telegraphed from the beginning and his stance was entirely sloppy which only meant that Noct not only dodged, but landed a blow to his back that nearly knocked Pariser from the ring instead. Gladio could see Pariser’s face flushing as he turned back round to face his opponent. It may have owed something to exertion, but Gladio was pretty sure it was mostly Pariser getting the proper taste of humiliation he deserved. Gladio worried for a moment as he saw Noct begin to charge, making the same mistaking of telegraphing his move too clearly, but he should have had more faith in the kid because as Pariser prepared to turn the tables, Noct performed a feint, followed up with an attack from an unexpected side. This one had Pariser feeling some real pain, a nasty whack to the ribs, but he simply raised his blade once more and prepared for the next strike. The clatter of wooden practice swords rang out as they traded strikes and parries in quick succession, but Pariser was becoming sloppier with each blow until Noct finally broke his guard, Pariser’s sword arm overextended. In two quick hits Noct manoeuvred it away from his body and landed a blow to his fingers that cost him his grip. The combined momentum with the brief slackening of his fingers saw the wooden practice blade fly out of the ring to land at Ignis’ feet. Noct’s blade moved to point at Pariser’s throat as he waited for Clarus to call the match, breathing heavily, but still raring to go.

Gladio couldn’t take his eyes from Ignis, who in turn was staring fixedly at the wooden blade innocuously lying a few feet in front of him. Gladio reached out to him, hand brushing against his shoulder in reassurance.

“His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Noctis has won the match,” Clarus announced. Shame radiated from Pariser where he stood, Noct’s blade an inch from his throat, but he was wise enough to accept defeat without further appeal in the presence of the King. Noct, after a long moment, dropped his sword and handed it off to the nearest Crownsguard. God knows it wasn’t the beat-down he wanted to deliver, but some civility had to be spared for the sake of diplomacy after all. 

Clarus, having conducted his part of the matter, retreated back to the King’s side while rubbing his forehead as though this whole business may have caused him an actual headache. Noct followed, coming to stand by them.

Before anything further could happen, King Regis rose and silence fell over the room. “Mr. Pariser,” he said, as the man retreated to his few countrymen who were present, “if I might offer the services of a physician, to assure that any wounds received will swiftly heal?” Whatever he may have been feeling, at the edict of the King, Pariser only nodded and accepted being escorted away by a medic. 

The matter taken care of he turned to Noct, taking a more severe, but not unreasonable tone. “My son, you have won this battle, and have done it with sincere intent, but it remains you are not able to marry without approval of the Ruling Council and myself. As you have been warned, you will have to either surrender the right back to the young Pariser, or to someone of your choosing.” 

The King was giving Noctis an out with his last words, Gladio realized. Having no doubt been made aware of Pariser’s character, Regis could hardly wish Ignis to remain bound to him. And yet, he was also not aware that for Ignis to be bound by another at all was untenable. It was only in service to the Crown which he would submit. Noct now could give the right to marry Ignis, to hold absolute legal power over him, to anyone and it would make him completely miserable.

Gladio’s musing was cut short when Noct not only failed to take his father’s hint, but rather belligerently replied, “Neither of which I’m doing.”

“Noctis.”

“I did the research!” Noct said, earnestly searching his father’s face before drawing himself up a little bit so that he could be heard by all present, trying for once to present himself as the future monarch he was. “ _Laws and Ordinances of Lucis, vol. 5_ , whatever that time period is. It’s still in the books that when the state has imminent need of some resources, the ruling monarch or their direct inheritor may assume unlimited _potestas_ over individuals or objects that provide them. Which,” he said, as his attempt at dignified bearing slipped away, “I kind of need Ignis, right?”

Gladio’s jaw was hanging open. It was a ballsy interpretation of the law, but quite possibly licit.

“So, if you take into account it’s not so different from how things are anyway, it shouldn’t create a problem for him and technically I can just retain that _potestas_ indefinitely as long as I have ‘sufficient need.’ Yeah, I can’t marry him without approval or recognition from the Ruling Council—and that, uh, is really not my plan—but I can retain _potestas_ over him and that right until the stupid practice gets overturned, or something. And that’s what I’m gonna do.”

The room silently digested Noctis’ pronouncement, until Regis spoke once more. 

“We’ll have to discuss this among the council and no small number of our legal experts,” Regis said, loud enough to be heard by the entire room. “But,” he continued, dropping his voice to speak only to those beside him as a charming smile—a trademark feature of his younger days according to Clarus—was quietly spreading across his face, “I am provisionally proud of you. Please refrain from doing anything like this ever again, however, you might have raised the ghosts of your ancestors with all this excitement.”

“Yeah, dad,” Noctis said quietly in response. 

“Now,” Regis spoke up once more as he gestured to the room, “I believe we have a party to return to.” The observers took it as a sign to break up the duelling ground crowd and return to the rooftop, bringing news of the outcome with them. Regis had more to say before the rest of them moved on. “I also believe we have some guests with ruffled feathers that now require assuaging. I’ll expect the three of you,” he said looking at Noctis, Gladio and Ignis, “upstairs in no more than ten minutes, where you will be personally making nice with the other Arcusian guests in attempt to harbour no ill will beyond what might be irreparable. The fetching Miss Iris is of course exempted if she wishes.”

“I can totally help out, Your Majesty!” Iris said brightly, “This situation calls for the patented Amicitia charm!”

Regis smiled kindly at her and began walking to the elevators. Clarus signalled for his daughter to join him as he followed, perhaps to have a word about exercising said charm at her age.

As his father retreated, Noctis slouched back down again no longer even pretending at formality. He turned to Ignis as he scuffed his shoes on the ground not looking up as he spoke. “So, you’ve got time now, for your 5-year plan or whatever, to change the laws.”

“Sooner,” said Ignis, with a lightness Gladio hadn’t heard in ages. Throughout the whole exchange Gladio could see his mind working through the ramifications of all this new information. “With the legal arena bound only to Lucian law now, it isn’t nearly as complicated.”

Gladio felt buoyant, to see things finally going right.

“Not that we shouldn’t continue to make efforts in that overall direction, mind,” Ignis said, “but unfavourable as I may find the circumstances of this matter in general…as far as solutions go, I suppose it is easier to reconcile to this path. Perhaps I should have not been so harsh in my rejection of help. The thought of having to marry him,” a shudder came over Ignis, one which he tried to suppress. It made Gladio want to find the bastard and pummel the living daylights out of him, but he stayed right where he was.

“He’s not worth thinking about, anymore,” Gladio said, rubbing his hand against Ignis’ shoulder.

“Quite,” Ignis said, letting a smile return to his face. 

“Right,” Noct said flippantly, trying to lighten things up, “so, you can wait until you’ve gotten rid of the laws, or I can marry you off to whoever if you really want—”

“Noct,” Ignis said, his expression flat. ‘That’s not funny’ could be read all over it.

Noctis laughed, aware he was being cheeky. “Okay, I’ll stop,” he said, looking up at Ignis. “But, Specs? I did okay, right?”

“Becoming of a future king,” Ignis said, “yes.” His smile was proud and it evidently made Noct embarrassed enough he made a quick excuse about needing to get up to the rooftop.

The three of them were indeed called upon to schmooze with the remaining Arcusians who, fond of Pariser or not, had some concern for the proceedings as his countrymen, but with enough prompting from Ignis and the boost of the Amicitia charm, Noct was able to put in a decent performance. 

As the party wound down, most of the guests and the king himself had retired already for the evening. While Noct hung out in the corner playing with his cell phone, probably texting Prompto, Gladio sidled up to Ignis where he was near the outlook, enjoying the night view of the city lights. Their hands brushed lightly, purposefully against each other as they stood there.

“Hey, Iggy,” Gladio said, trying and failing to suppress a grin as Ignis turned to face him instead. “I know you’re technically engaged to Noct, but whaddaya say to dinner? Maybe tomorrow after work?”

Ignis raised his eyebrows, his lips curving up into a smile, “Am I supposed to be the one cooking in this scenario?”

Gladio moved in front of him, leaning in so close their foreheads rested against one another as he said with conviction, “You can do whatever the hell you want.”

The smile that had been blooming spread to full, beatific perfection as Ignis said, “I like the sound of that.” A smile like that, public rooftop or not, Gladio had no choice but to kiss. Thoroughly.


End file.
